


What's Up?

by ivarara



Series: Titanfall thingies [1]
Category: Titanfall (Video Games)
Genre: pleas be gentle i just started titanfall 2 and HAD to write something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:28:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24937549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivarara/pseuds/ivarara
Summary: HB-5987 is unfamiliar with the phrase.
Series: Titanfall thingies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804891
Kudos: 14





	What's Up?

**Author's Note:**

> hey! first titanfall fic adjfkafb hope it's ok. i plan on doing lots more.
> 
> follow me on tumblr! @fallintitans i take requests for stuff!!

** HB-5987 REPLAY **

** ACTIVATING VISUALS **

** ACTIVATING AUDIO **

The base is bustling with Frontier Militia soldiers, though HB-5987 is not involved in any of their current work. Instead, he is waiting for his Pilot, as she usually spends her spare time with the Titan. He has come to enjoy her company (which he supposes he _has_ to tolerate her, even if he were to dislike her--she is his Pilot, after all).

One of the bay doors opens, Keplar appearing in his field of view, optic focusing in on her. She is strolling over with a jaunt in her step. Donned in the Pilot gear, she seems smaller than usual. The gear is bulky on her lean frame. HB-5987 makes a note to ensure she is properly eating and exercising to prevent fatigue.

“What’s up, Hubble?” she chirps. She has to crane her neck up to look at his faceplates. HB-5987 crouches to make it easier, extending a hand for her to climb onto and bringing it upwards.

HB-5987 scans his databanks for the phrase. It is new to him, though he has only been functioning for a short time. He has been updated with most ‘human’ terms, but this one is foreign.

ERROR: No information found.

Does she mean ‘what is above them?’ He looks up and is met with nothing but the clear blue sky and a few puffy clouds drifting past. “Do you mean the sky, Pilot?”

Keplar stifles a laugh. “No, Hubble. It’s a phrase.” She waves her hands in front of her as she explains, a habit HB-5987 does not understand but accepts. “It means, y’know…”

“I am afraid I do not know.” He tilts his helm to the side to indicate curiosity.

“It means ‘how are you doin’? How are things?’ Stuff like that, y’feel?”

“I…” he struggles to understand, “‘feel’.”

“Sweet,” she beams. “So...what’s up?”

“Simply observing the happenings of the base,” HB-5987 responds. He blinks his optic owlishly. “What is up to you, Pilot?” He stumbles through the wording.

Keplar smirks. “Not much. Just relaxin’.” She reclines in his hand nonchalantly. “Waitin’ for something to do.”

“I understand,” he rumbles. “The urge to work is persistent in someone like you. Being contained for so long gives you nerves.”

“You know me well,” she snorts.


End file.
